


Playing with fire

by Trash



Category: Bastille (Band)
Genre: M/M, Secret relationships are secret, mentions of jizz obviously, only not really because come on now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 20:58:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17169278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trash/pseuds/Trash
Summary: Dan ought to wash his fucking jeans.





	Playing with fire

“You’ve got something on your jeans,” Woody says as he walks past. 

Dan knows already, doesn’t look down. “It’s jizz,” he says, and across the room Kyle makes a half-choked sound which hopefully Woody misses because it is drowned out by his own laughter. 

“Is it now?”

“Yeah. Not mine, though. So it’s alright.”

“I don’t...at this point I can’t tell if you’re joking. You not gonna change them?”

“Nah. It’s my aesthetic.”

Woody looks at him despairingly on his way out the dressing room, says nothing else. Dan goes back to rolling the entire contents of his weed tin into spliffs for later, completely ignoring the shaking of his fingers. He rolls each one slowly, methodically, making sure his mind is completely preoccupied with the task. No room for anxiety if you can’t think of anything else, is there?

He’s so focused he misses what Kyle says to him, only looks up when he comes to stand next to him. “What?”

“I said, that was a dick thing to say. To Woody, just now.”

“About the jizz?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s true.”

Kyle rubs a hand across his face. “I know that,” he says, “but one, we are already playing with fire as it is here and three, I think that made him uncomfortable.”

“Nothing makes Woody uncomfortable.”

“Knowing your’s or someone else’s cum splash is on your jeans probably does, to be fair.”

Dan looks at him, looks at the concern on his face. “You’re overthinking it, Ky.”

“Am I? Jesus, we’ve nearly nearly been caught so many times.”

“They can’t kick us out the band. It’s my band.”

Kyle takes his hand, stops him rolling another spliff. “I don’t want to lose our friends over this, Dan. Why don’t you give more of a shit?”

Dan stares him down. “I do give a shit. Things we have to lose here aren’t limited to our friends and the band. If this goes tits up I run the risk of losing my best mate, as well. And I love you, Kyle. This isn’t just about pulling each other off in the disabled toilet for me, okay? And if you still don’t get that then fine, fine. But you’re worth the risk. So. There.” He snatches his hand away and rolls his final spliff, tucking it behind his ear and stuffing the tin in his back pocket. “Going for a smoke,” he says. 

On his way out the room he brushes past Charlie who goes, “got something on you there, mate.”

“Jizz,” Dan says, then disappears to find a fire escape.


End file.
